


Within Halls of Golden Rot

by EmeraldHeiress



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Deception, Dissociative Language, Don't copy to another site, Fake/Pretend Master/Slave, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Past Child Abuse, Planet Tatooine (Star Wars), Revelations, Scars, Slavery, Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: Obi-Wan almost flinched. The intonation was all wrong. Though Anakin had said those same words many times a day, every day since had come to the temple, Obi-Wan had never heard it sound like that. Heneverwanted to hear it again.Or:Anakin confronts his past in the worst way.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 59
Kudos: 799
Collections: New SW Canon Server Works





	Within Halls of Golden Rot

“They’re sending us where?” Anakin asked flatly, his face blank.

Obi-Wan blinked mildly in surprise. “To negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt. The Council thought with your knowledge of the local customs and language, and with our location being already on planet we might as well take care of it.”

Anakin closed his eyes and took a long slow breath.

The Jedi master reached out in the Force, trying to get a sense of his former apprentice’s mindset, but, for likely the first time in recorded memory, Anakin’s shields were locked tight — denying entry to his master.

A spike of unease crawled up his spine.

Cautiously, he asked, “Anakin?”

Blue eyes snapped open. “It’s fine.” A sigh. “It’s fine, but I need your word that you will listen to me and not interfere.”

“What do you—”

“ _Your word_ , Obi-Wan.”

It wasn’t something asked for lightly. Promises between them were only for important occasions or life and death situations; when they needed each other to listen unequivocally.

Obi-Wan gave the request the thought it deserved. Rolling it over in his mind. This was _Anakin_. His former padawan. He knew him better than anyone. He knew that if Anakin asked there was usually a reason. Despite his — well deserved — reputation for recklessness he knew what he was doing. And he had a look in his eyes that the Jedi Master had never seen. A seriousness and sincerity that was almost concerning.

“You have my word.”

Anakin nodded once, sharply. “Alright… good.” He looked around for a moment, as if gauging where they were and what they had. “We need to make a few adjustments then. Negotiating with a Hutt is a task that’s based as much on status as it is on what you have to bargain.”

“What?”

A touch of humor showed on Anakin’s face, “You need jewelry.”

The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth turned as he made a face.

Twenty minutes later they walked through the market, looking for something that only Anakin knew the particulars of. As they wandered, his former padawan quietly told Obi-Wan that Ahsoka was to remain on the ship.

“But this is a valuable learning opportunity for her!” Obi-Wan protested.

“It doesn’t matter.” Anakin stated, voice like beskar. “I’m not risking her. She stays on the ship, where she’s safe. She’s worth too much on this planet for me to put her in danger here.”

 _Worth too…_ Obi-Wan’s thought trailed off, the implications of what Anakin had said hitting him.

“You think she’ll be taken.”

“It’s always a risk.” His voice was grim. “And we’re going right into the dragon’s den. _I won’t risk her, Obi-Wan._ ”

“How do you know how much she’s worth?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He winced. “Don’t answer that.”

The look in Anakin's eyes was answer enough. He turned away and slipped to another stall.

“Here.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

A touch of humor graced Anakin’s lips. “You wish.”

“Shouldn’t we get something like this for you, too?” Share the misery.

Anakin’s expression closed off again. “No.”

It was the only thing he said in Basic for the next two hours.

That evening, Anakin carefully showed Obi-Wan how to wear his new status symbols. Which items to place where for the maximum effect. He couldn’t help but scowl. He’d never cared for the prestige and status of politicking. The posturing or pageantry. But Anakin insisted and he had given his word.

When he asked Anakin about his costume for the next day all he got was the same blank face he had seen most of the afternoon.

Shifting on his mattress with the heat of the Tatooine suns finally fading, Obi-Wan couldn’t help the bad feeling welling in his stomach. There was something… something _wrong_. The Force was whispering to him but he couldn’t quite hear.

The next morning dawned early and hot. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but pity the people that lived here as he readied himself for the day.

All round him it felt like something was building. It left him anxious and irritable, but he did his best to soothe it away and release it into the Force. When Anakin was ready — when he declared it appropriate — they set out for Gardulla’s palace.

He was already looking forward to this whole thing to end.

As they were getting in the speeder, he couldn’t help but arch a brow, put out.

“Why do you get to wear your robe?” He asked his former padawan.

Anakin only snorted.

The trip to the palace was a relatively short one, but Anakin spent the time going over Obi-Wan’s role which seemed to consist of shutting up and looking powerful.

“I don’t understand why we’re not playing to our strengths. You know that diplomacy isn’t your strong suit. Why are you doing all the talking.”

Grimly, Anakin only said, “You’ll see.”

If this went badly… but Obi-Wan had promised and those were not to be taken lightly. Not between them. Something pressed between his shoulders. A warning he didn’t understand. Mouth set in a thin line, he hoped it wasn’t something they couldn’t recover from.

As the palace came into view, Anakin slipped out of the Jedi robe, revealing what lay beneath.

“Anakin! What are you wearing?”

The blond sighed and repeated a Huttese word. Siding a gaze in his master’s direction, all he offered as explanation was a short, “It’s traditional.”

Traditional for what? It couldn’t possibly do anything against the suns.

The quality of the material was at least comparable to what Anakin had insisted on in Obi-Wan’s clothing. But where Obi-Wan was dressed in a sleeveless linen tunic embroidered in pale bronze thread, Anakin wore only a type of wrap. Sitting low on his hips and falling to his knees, the material was light and layered severely against its near transparency.

The same bronze metal that Anakin had insisted grace Obi Wan’s arms and neck belted the wrap at Anakin’s hips. Golden paint elegantly marked his arms and scrawled across his chest, strategically placed to cover certain scars and highlight others.

“Anakin, what—”

A guard rose to meet them, barking out a rapid question. Anakin answered back just as quickly, head tilted and eyes lowered in a way Obi-Wan had never seen before.

The change that came over Anakin as they had entered the palace set Obi-Wan’s teeth on edge, but it was too late to pry and his hands were tied. He hated it.

He hated the way that Anakin was suddenly walking two steps behind him and to the right. He hated the way he kept his head tilted slightly down and his eyes to the side. And he hated the way he had only just noticed that Anakin was kriffing barefoot.

Suspicion seeded and bloomed deep in his mind and he wished he knew enough about the situation to put it away. ~~But he didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He knew he was right.~~

He and Anakin were having _words_ after this.

It was a struggle to remember to keep his head held high and his posture confident as they were led into the throne room. He curled his mind around Anakin, probing and questioning, but all it met was a blank wall. The same blank wall the knight had been since Obi-Wan had brought up the assignment in the first place.

This was a mistake.

But there was nothing to be done about it now.

The Force pressed in against him.

Gardulla sat on a dais much like the one Jabba had, with a few significant differences. No dancing girls, for one. Obi-Wan vaguely remembered something about Jabba being thought a bit deviant because of that particular pleasure of his and suppressed a smirk.

The room was filled with people, relaxed-but-not laying on couches or sitting in chairs around the room. In one corner, a set of three girls all of different races softly played instruments.

Obi-Wan got the feeling that Gardulla aspired to be considered a bit more… tasteful than Jabba. Yet, the rumors of her cruelty eclipsed anything Jabba could come up with. He idly wondered where that information had come from as he turned his attention to the Hutt.

The male servant ( _slave, his mind supplied)_ they had followed to the room, stepped forward and muttered to the togruta woman that stood at attention next to Gardulla’s throne. The togruta nodded before turning to announce them to the room.

“Master Jedi High General Obi-Wan Kenobi and slave.”

It was only his years as a Jedi, trained to keep his emotions and reactions in check, that kept him from jolting.

_What the kriff, Anakin?_

He felt the gaze of the Hutt rest on him a moment; weighing him, judging him, before sliding to his right and to Anakin. Involuntarily, he clenched his jaw, thinking about what she might be reading in whatever message Anakin was sending in the outfits he had chosen. What were they saying — what was _Anakin_ saying — with his choices?

Her mouth opened and a stream of low Huttese syllables flowed from her throat.

The togruta woman stepped forward and spoke, “The gracious and lovely Gardulla receives General Obi-Wan and his pet and wonders what she might do for such a highly ranked lord of the Republic.”

 _Osik_. Anakin told him not to say anything but how was he supposed to just not answer?

Beside him, Anakin bowed, stepped forward three steps and kneeled. “If it pleases the mighty and gracious Gardulla, this one is to translate for the honorable and righteous General Kenobi.”

He followed with a stream of his own Huttese, the only word Obi-Wan could follow was his own name.

A ball of ice formed in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach just listening to Anakin’s monotone voice. As he saw him kneeling like a real slave on the filthy floor of Gardulla’s throne room. It took all of his effort to keep his arrogant mask on his face as Anakin spoke, the Huttese rolling off his tongue like he used it every day.

Like he had never left the sands of Tatooine.

“Your master must trust you greatly, little one, to allow you to speak for him.” The togruta stated.

“My master sees value in the unworthy. This one has earned the trust of the strong and noble General Kenobi through long years of service.”

The bargaining continued, swapping between Huttese and Basic at a whim. Occasionally, even Bocce, if Obi-Wan wasn’t mistaken, but his thoughts weren’t on that.

His eyes were on Anakin, tracing the lines of old lash marks on his back. Nearly invisible now. Nearly forgotten. Perhaps not so easily forgotten after all, he mused.

Obi-Wan suddenly regretted a great many decisions regarding Anakin. He wondered how many things he could have — _should have_ — done differently that led to this moment right now.

The bargaining continued, Anakin’s monotone voice _crawling_ up Obi-wan’s spine. His former padawan barely so much as twitched from the position he had taken: head down, eyes lowered, hands resting lightly on his thighs. It was horrifying in its own way. He had never seen Anakin so still.

Something shifted in the room and Gardulla suddenly chuckled, nearly startling him out of his thoughts.

The togruta jolted, flinching away from her mistress as she did so. Even Anakin twitched, his shields cracking briefly and allowing a spike of fear to leach through. It was odd; it didn’t feel like new fear. It felt… remembered. Instinctive. The Hutt rumbled another sentence and the togruta translated.

“Your master must value you highly, little one. For you have bargained well. Despite your words that he is speaking in your mind, telling you what to say, it is obvious this is not the case.”

Obi-Wan could see Anakin’s jaw tighten and felt dread curl in his stomach.

More words, translated and lilting, fell from the togruta’s lips. “I would have your name, little one, so that I know who to ask for when I buy you.”

“He’s not for sale,” Obi-Wan bit out instinctively. Protectively.

A sharp intake of breath from next to him. He’d apologize to Anakin later.

Eyes turned to him. “I would pay you handsomely for such a valuable slave.”

“Nothing is worth his loyalty.”

“Everything has a price. We shall see.” She addressed Anakin directly again. “I would still have your name.”

There was a pause as Anakin hesitated to say the words, but slowly they tripped over his tongue and into the room

“Anakin Skywalker.”

There was a moment of heavy silence, as if the very Force was holding its breath.

Gardulla shifted on her dias and peered at him, her bulbous eyes raking over him again. She opened her mouth again and laughed.

It was an ugly laugh. Low and full of old cruelty.

“I see you have become something much more valuable than I could ever have expected when I lost you to the Toydarian all those years ago, boy.”

Obi-Wan nearly bit his tongue.

Gardulla has been Anakin’s master?

Suddenly, several pieces of the puzzle slotted together. He remembered her reputation for cruelty, and his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the faded marks of the lash on Anakin’s back yet again.

_Had she been the one to give him those?_

“I suppose it is my foolishness that lost you and your mother in the first place, then.” The Hutt sneered. “A waste.”

“No one could ever call the great Gardulla foolish, my lady,” Anakin stated calmly, bending his head even lower. “All know of your power, and despair. The desert bends to your will.”

The gaze she rested on Anakin was openly greedy. “You speak very well for a slave-born muttling. We never did figure out who your sire was, did we?”

“My wondrous lady, it has always remained a mystery. This one thanks you for your kind words.”

She huffed and turned back to Obi-Wan. “What do you want for your pet?”

The Jedi master consciously relaxed his jaw and told her again, “He is not for sale, magnificent one. I am sorry for any inconvenience, but I am quite resolved on the matter.”

“I will give you 100 thousand cho mar for him.”

“A pittance. He is worth much more than that. Regardless, he’s not for sale. Is our other business concluded?”

Anakin’s voice spoke up, low at his side, “Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan almost flinched. The intonation was all wrong. Though Anakin had said those same words many times a day, every day since had come to the temple, Obi-Wan had never heard it sound like that.

_He never wanted to hear it again._

“Then we shall take our leave. Thank you for your hospitality.”

All Obi-Wan wanted to do was _get out_. Get Anakin out of this horrible place and get him back to the ship. Get him _off this planet_.

As quickly as he could without being rude, he bowed to the Hutt and turned to leave, watching out of the side of his eye to make sure Anakin was following.

“I will have that boy,” Gadulla called out, as they were led out of the throne room.

 _No, you kriffing won’t_ , Obi-Wan swore.

Obi-wan maintained their silence as they swiftly departed the palace.

He could see the tension in Anakin. The white in his knuckles as he gripped the steering of the speeder. The clenching of his jaw. He let it go as they put the palace behind them. Kept their personas until it was past the horizon and gone. But as soon as they could no longer see it, he was pressing against Anakin’s barriers, begging to be let in — to comfort.

Begging for his own reassurance from his padawan.

Anakin stopped the speeder and jumped out. Obi-Wan scrambled to follow, anxiety turning in his stomach.

“Anakin?”

The knight flung up a hand as he fell to his knees, stopping Obi-Wan, and emptied his stomach in the small shrub to the side of their path.

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathed, kneeling beside the other man. “Anakin, what can I do?”

Anakin shook his head, closing his eyes and breathing deep.

His walls still locked tight against Obi-Wan.

“I can drive us?”

A nod.

“Can you move?”

Another nod

Concern welled inside him. He’d never seen Anakin like this. It was another minute before the blond rose, legs unsteady underneath him.

Obi-Wan offered him the previously discarded robe and it was wrapped somewhat loosely around his shoulders. Covering the paint and the scars.

Obi-wan wanted to press. Wanted to demand answers and shout and pull every bit of detail he could. Wanted to ask _what the kriff_ Anakin had been _thinking,_ coming up with that plan.

There had to have been a better way!

He wanted to ask why he hadn't told Obi-Wan or even the Council that Gardulla used to own him. Surely he knew they would never have sent on him back into that hole if they had known.

Surely…

The memory of Anakin’s face when he briefed him on the mission in the first place played through his mind and he pressed his lips together.

What was he going to do with him?

When they arrived back at the landing bay, Anakin went straight for the ‘fresher.

Obi-Wan stared at the door, concerned, before comming the docking master about a departure time.

It was time to get off this planet.

Twenty minutes later, they were in the sky. Obi-Wan commed the Resolute, informing them they were on the way.

Anakin slipped out of the ‘fresher a few minutes after takeoff, looking better while dressed in his normal robes, but still pale. His shields still locked tight. Obi-wan tried to reach out again, but continued to hit that wall.

He frowned.

It wasn’t like Anakin to hide himself. To hide his emotions. Especially in the Force. He had always been a bright beacon to those around him. Of everything. Of joy when he was happy. Of fury when he was angry. Of sorrow when he was sad. This was a chilling difference.

It made him wonder what else Anakin had been hiding — wonder what else he didn’t know about his former padawan.

Where else he might have failed.

As they entered docking procedures with the Resolute, Anakin found him, handing him a datapad.

“What’s this?”

“The terms of the agreement with Gardulla.”

Obi-Wan blinked. He…had almost forgotten the reason they had gone there in the first place. The reason for all of this. The deal. He nodded to Anakin and set it aside as he continued finalizing the landing

Before he could thank him, Anakin was gone again.

He could only look after him and worry. The Force nearly trembled with disquiet. He knew — he saw — what the meeting with Gardulla had done to Anakin. Hopefully… maybe… with a little time.

Rex and Cody greeted them as the doors of the shuttle opened. Anakin stood by his side, then. As light from the cargo bay began to filter through, Anakin _changed_.

Obi-Wan stared.

Anakin _smiled_.

He smiled at Rex and Cody with his mouth. Then he turned, patting Rex on the shoulder and greeting both of the soldiers like normal. The hesitation before he made contact was barely there.

If Obi-Wan hadn’t been looking for it, he would never have seen it.

Anakin greeted them like nothing was wrong. If Obi-Wan hadn’t been there, he would never have known.

Then, before Obi-Wan could even call him on it, Anakin expertly slipped out of the meeting and vanished.

The Jedi master gazed after him.

This was…

Something heavy and troubled roiled in Obi-Wan's stomach.

He didn’t know how to fix this.

He didn't know what to do.

He looked at the datapad in his hand and knew he needed to tell the Council.

He needed to tell them _everything_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely the fault of everyone on the New SW Canon Discord server. _You know who you are._
> 
> A **huge** thank you to [AlabasterInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlabasterInk/pseuds/AlabasterInk) for beta'ing! You're a lifesaver!


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